On a train to nowhere

Ashford Ebbsfleet, here we come

So, simple plan. BLISS and le DLL head into Ashford. Depending on what time I get away from cricket, K or I go over and pick them up. What could be simpler?

Delete next to last train, and replace last train of the day. Delete stopping at Ashford and replace going straight to Ebbsfleet.

Nope, they’re not going to do anything the easy way. Apparently, picking up some food in case they were hungry was a good idea. French bread and soft cheese, apparently, was a dumb-ass choice. Well, it was late and I’d been up since four thirty, and I was tired and everything.

Oh, and Northfleet? Looking for a positive, I can only find the lack of a confusing one-way system, and the fact that I got out alive.

Disembowelling Dino

D the Dog loves a toy. Then for no apparent reason, he suddenly takes against them and does some destruction. Dino the Dinosaur had a reprieve when K performed some amazing surgery, the first ever re-emboweling of a Flintstone-related soft toy.

It didn’t last long, though.

The evidence isn’t conclusive. Either Dino rejected his original insides, or D had another go at him.

British Lions, England cricket team

We watched the Lions. They’re easy to get behind. We especially like Hagrid, one of the best prop forwards in the world, in our opinion.

I caught some of the one-day international. Our cricket team is easy to like at the moment, too. So’s Phil Tuffnell on TMS.

Robert Wyatt – Wyatting

Is it musical snobbery to sabotage pub Internet juke boxes and similar with long, unusual pieces of music, or is it an act of subversion?

I don’t care really. The mainstream needs a kicking on a regular basis, and I struggle to distinguish between mega-bonus bakers and overpaid gits like Cowell and the other one who inflict garbage on a nation (a nation, it seems, with a bottomless appetite for garbage). It’s a dodgy, and a stagnating business where favours are exchanged for radio plays, that lead to chart positions, that are used as an excuse for more radio plays, and so on.

If middle of the road is your thing, all well and good, but these evil, filthy-lucre obsessed people actually frown upon, and look down on genuinely innovative artists doing anything other than endlessly recycling the same old same old.